What is love?
by iloveyoucalzona
Summary: In the wake of a tragedy, can the Robbins-Torres family unearth the meaning of love?
1. Chapter 1

"Mommy, what is love?" Sofia looked up at her mom from where she lay in Arizona's childhood bed.

They had spent a joyful Christmas with Arizona's parents in California, and then that joy abruptly had been cut short: "The Colonel" Daniel Robbins collapsed two days after the holiday. Heart attack.

And no one had been home.

That was what haunted Arizona, more than anything else. She, her mom, and Sofia had gone shopping without her dad because he had said he "didn't feel well." When they had gotten home, six hours later, he had been cold.

Arizona was a doctor, and yet she hadn't been able to help him. It had been too late.

So now, mere hours after her father's funeral, Arizona was still in a sort of fog. "What?"

Sofia blinked up at her mom, sensing she wasn't okay and wanting to help but not knowing how. "It's our year-long project for school," she explained. "Ms. Kane says we should have our answer by the end of second-grade. She's gonna make a book."

Arizona pulled the blankets up to Sof's neck, her fingers pinching a black fluff of lint on the white sheet and flicking it onto the floor. "I see."

"When I asked Grandpa, he said, 'Love is what I feel for my country,'" Sofia continued, dropping her voice to match The Colonel's deep tenor.

Arizona almost smiled.

"He also said it's how families feel about each other."

Gingerly, Arizona sat down on the edge of the bed. "That's right," she nodded. She reached down, running her fingers through silky brown hair. "He loved you very much, sweetie." Then, she shut her eyes, inhaling a sharp breath to keep herself from crying in front of Sofia. She didn't want her daughter to have to see her break down.

And, so far, she had done well: only two tears had fallen. That was all. The Colonel wouldn't have wanted her to cry, only to 'soldier on,' like always. And she owed him at least that.

Arizona offered a genuine smile. "And I love _you_."

Sofia dimpled, revealing her two missing front-teeth. "I love you, too, Mommy. But what _is_ love? Ms. Kane says we need a definition."

"What do you think it is?"

Sof shrugged. "Dane says it's when you kiss all the time, 'cause that's what his parents do. But that doesn't work, 'cause you don't kiss me all the time since I live far away now. And you and Mama don't kiss, but you still love each other 'cause we're a family."

"Right," Arizona breathed.

Sofia was right. She still loved Callie—that was the problem. That was what hurt, almost as much as her father's death. That was what hurt, almost as much as half of her former family-of-four being interred in the ground. Only she and her mom were left.

What hurt was how badly she ached for Callie—how badly she wanted Callie's strong, allaying arms around her like a promise: that there was still good in the world, that there was still warmth, that there was still pleasure, that everything would be okay.

Of course she still loved Callie, and that just made everything hurt more.

"And love doesn't mean never leaving," Sofia continued, attempting to work out her answer in her head. "Because Mama left to go to New York, but we're still a family. And Daddy and Grandpa left to go to Heaven when they died, but they couldn't help it. Right?"

Arizona smiled wistfully, feeling proud of her thoughtful little girl. "That's exactly right, Sofia. And you know what?"

Sofia looked up at her, wide-eyed and waiting.

"Whatever love is—whether it means being family or kissing a lot—I think it's always there. It never goes away. No matter what."

Sofia smiled.

"So I'll love you _forever_ ," Arizona promised. "And so will Mama, and Daddy, and Grandpa, even if he's not here to tell you he loves you anymore. He'll always feel it. I promise."

Arizona knew that love never went away. And, sometimes, that was the problem.

* * *

"Sof, let's call Mama, okay?" Arizona suggested the following afternoon. "You haven't talked to her since Christmas. I'm sure she misses you."

She dialed the number and handed Sofia the phone, then continued into the kitchen to cook dinner. More than anything, she wanted to leave—to go home to Seattle—but she couldn't. Not yet.

She knew that her mom had a good support system; neighbors, former coworkers, and family-friends had been at the house all day, bringing their condolences and casseroles. Uncle Ron even had come from South Carolina.

But, still, her father had been buried only the day before. She couldn't leave her mom yet.

"Sofia!" Callie picked up on the first ring. "How are you? Why haven't you been calling?"

"Mama, Grandpa died."

"He-." Callie felt her stomach drop. "Sofia, what do you mean?"

"Grandma says he had a heart attack," Sof explained, wiping her teary eyes. "We had the funeral yesterday."

"Oh, _Sof_ ," Callie's heart ached with compassion. Poor Sofia. _Poor Arizona_. "Sweetie, I'm so sorry."

Sofia sniffled.

"When did it happen?"

"Three days ago."

 _Why didn't Arizona say anything_? Callie wondered to herself. Aloud, she asked, "How's Mommy? Are you taking care of her?"

Sofia nodded. "Mm-hm," she promised.

"That's our sweet girl," Callie smiled. "Let me talk to her, okay?"

"Okay." Sofia ran into the kitchen, and Arizona looked up from where she was chopping cucumber for salad.

"Mama wants to talk to you."

Arizona swallowed hard—clearly hoping to have avoided that—but nodded.

"Hey, Sof?" Callie recaptured their daughter's attention.

"What?" Sofia spoke into the receiver.

"Make sure to give Mommy and Grandma lots of hugs and kisses for me, and be good, okay?"

"I will, Mama. Here's Mommy! Bye!" She shoved the phone in Arizona's direction and then ran off to go find her grandma and give her a hug.

Arizona cleared her throat. "Hey, Callie."

"Arizona," Callie exhaled. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea. Why didn't you say anything?"

"I don't know," Arizona shrugged. But she knew exactly why: because Callie should have been there, because she wanted Callie so badly, because she was afraid she'd say so in her pain and grief and loneliness.

Because she shouldn't have _had_ to tell Callie. Because Callie should've been there and known.

"We've been kind of busy," she explained tersely, not wanting Callie to question her any further.

"Arizona, do you want me t-"

"I'm fine," Arizona cut her off. "It's fine. And I'm taking care of Sof. Don't worry."

Thousands of miles away, Callie looked down at her feet. "I'm not so worried about Sofia."

Arizona inhaled a deep, calming breath. "I'm fine," she repeated.

"Okay," Callie nodded. "Well, then, um…I love-" She coughed. "Tell Barbara I'm sending all my love. And if there's anything I can do…"

"I'll let you know," Arizona finished for her. There was something Callie could do: she could be there.

There was something Callie wanted to do: to be there.

But Arizona didn't feel like she could ask, and Callie didn't feel like she could offer.

"I have to go," Arizona breathed, her eyes fixing on her half-made salad. "I'll talk to you soon, I guess."

Callie nodded emphatically, even though her ex-wife couldn't see her. " _Yes_. We'll talk soon."

After Arizona hung up, Callie continued to hold the phone up to her ear for so long that annoying beeping sound began on the other end of the line, alerting her that no one was there.

She exhaled a tremulous sigh. She didn't know what to do. She wanted to be with Arizona, but did she have the right? Did Arizona even _want_ her there?

She hadn't even told her ex-wife that she'd broken up with Penny. And, anyway, would it do any good to show up at Arizona's old house in Northern California, or would it just make everything worse?

She knew it had been hard on Barbara when they had divorced. And what if everything was awkward between her and Arizona? That would only add to Barbara's pain. And Sofia's. And Arizona's.

 _So I won't go_ , she decided. _I'll leave Arizona alone_.

But, even as she made the decision, Callie acknowledged that it wasn't entirely selfless. Although she _was_ concerned about her family, more than that, she was scared.

It scared her that she loved Arizona infinitely. It scared her that Arizona may not feel the same. It scared her that, even if, by some miracle, she did, love once again may not be enough.

So Callie did not hop on a plane to California to hold close the woman she loved most. She sat at home, alone, realizing for the hundredth time that, without Arizona, 'home' didn't feel like home.

* * *

"Mama?" Sofia prompted a few weeks later, sitting in the backseat of the car as Callie headed home.

"Hmm?" Callie kept her eyes on the road. It was wet, and driving in New York still made her nervous.

"Remember the second-grade project Ms. Kane gave us?"

"Um, yeah." Callie made a right-hand turn. "She wants you to define love, right?"

"Uh-huh. Emma says it's what's in the room at Christmas when you stop opening presents and listen."

"That's a good one," Callie smiled, picturing the sweet scene at Arizona's parents' house. Then, her expression darkened as she remembered the death had followed soon after.

"Karina says it's when her mommy gives her daddy the best piece of chicken, and Chris says it's when her mommy comes home from a run all smelly and her dad says she's still the most beautiful woman in the world. Dani says love is happy endings."

"Those are some great ideas." Callie turned onto their street. "What's your working-definition, miss Sofia? Any ideas?"

Sofia shrugged. "I don't know. I think Dani's wrong because you and Mommy love each other, but you're not married so there's no happily ever after."

Callie gulped. Unfortunately, Sofia was right about that.

"I think it's just a feeling. It's when your arms wanna hug someone, just 'cause. Like, you wanna play with someone's hair, just 'cause your hands are supposed to be there. Like the way I always want to braid Joella's hair because she says it feels nice, and she's my best friend here, so I want her to feel nice."

Callie smiled at Sofia, as if untroubled, but she was horrified: as she asked herself the question 'What is love?' the only answer she could think of was _Arizona_.

She couldn't separate love and Arizona. Apart from Arizona, love didn't exist. It didn't matter that she'd married George. It didn't matter that she'd wanted Erica. It didn't matter that she'd left with Penny.

Next to Arizona, they were nobodies. And, whether Callie was able to admit it out loud or not, she knew that she'd never loved anyone the way she loved Arizona, and she wanted her and Arizona to have their happy ending.

"I know that I still love Grandpa, even though he's gone," Sofia vocalized, oblivious to her mother's inner turmoil. "Mommy says love never goes away."

"Yeah," Callie breathed. "It never goes away."

* * *

Callie sent flowers to Barbara and The Colonel's house, but Arizona had already left by the time they were delivered.

Arizona's coworkers and friends had offered their condolences, called, and checked in, but to her disappointment, Callie never reached out. Day after day, Arizona went to work with her cell phone in her pocket, and Callie never texted, emailed, or called. Night after night, Arizona went home, and there were no messages on her answering machine, either.

She wanted to kick herself. _It's stupid to expect Callie to do something, isn't it? I mean, we aren't together, so why would she?_

She attempted to be rational and not take offense, but no matter how she tried to reassure herself, the silence still hurt.

Maybe her ex-wife didn't love her _like that_ anymore, but didn't Callie love her _at all_? Didn't Callie care that she was hurting?

"Mommy, I miss you!" Sofia exclaimed as soon as they got on the phone one evening.

"I miss you, too, honey." Arizona smiled. "How's school?"

"It's good!" Sofia proceeded to update Arizona on everything that she'd learned since their conversation a few days before. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," Arizona informed her, and even Sofia picked up the odd edge to her voice. "Staying busy with work. I'm thinking about repainting the kitchen a pretty yellow color. What do you think?"

Sofia made a face. "No yellow. Paint it pink!"

Arizona laughed. "And how's Mama? Do you two miss having Penny around?"

"Not really. She was always working, anyway. She was kinda weird."

Arizona couldn't keep her lips from curling up into a wry smile. She'd always had the sneaking suspicion that the resident wasn't great with kids, and she had been right. "And Mama?" she prompted again.

"Mama's good," Sofia assured her, not offering any details, to Arizona's dismay.

"Does she want to talk to me?" Arizona hoped. Once upon a time, Callie had cared whether or not she was okay.

Sofia shook her head. "I don't think so. She just took a shower and is putting on her PJs, I think."

Arizona sighed. "Well…I really miss you, sweetie. Home isn't the same without you. I'm all alone." She chuckled darkly, realizing just how true that was.

Sofia pouted out her lower lip, missing her mother more than ever. "I'll see you soon, right?"

"You will," Arizona swore. "You get to come for all of Spring Break."

"Yay!" Sofia cheered.

Arizona smiled. "I love you, Sof."

"I love you, too, Mommy."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Sofia hung up the phone and skipped into Callie's room.

"Hey, kiddo," Callie smiled. "How's Mommy? Did you make sure to ask her how she is for me?" She set down the laundry she had been folding, giving Sof her undivided attention to relay their conversation, just as she'd done every other night for the past few months.

Sofia nodded solemnly, taking her job very seriously. "I asked. She said she's okay."

"What else did she say?" Callie pressed.

Sofia tried to remember. "She said she's painting the kitchen yellow, and that she's all alone."

Callie's mouth fell open. "She said she's 'all alone'?" she worried.

Sofia nodded. "Of course, Mama," she offered gently, surprised that her mom couldn't see the truth in Arizona's words. "Because we're family and so far away."

Callie stood still for a moment, and Sofia watched her silently, sensing some sort of shift in the air.

Then, Callie broke the silence. "We're going home."

Sofia's eyes bulged. "Huh?"

"We love Mommy, right?"

Sofia grinned. "More than the whole world!"

That was true. For better or worse, Callie loved her more than anything. "Right. And you know what I say? Love is never having to be alone."

Sofia started bouncing up and down on the bed. "We're really going home? Really?!"

Callie smiled, and anticipation tickled her stomach. "Really."


	2. Chapter 2

"Mama, can I call Mommy?"

Callie looked up from where she was packing up the last of their kitchen utensils. "I think she might still be at work, Sof."

"Can I _try_?" Sofia pressed. "I miss her. I haven't talked to her in two whole days!"

Callie sighed in surrender and fished her cell phone out of her pocket, since she already had packed up the home phone. She dialed half the number, then fixed Sofia with a stern look. "Remember: don't tell her we're coming home."

"Why not?" Sof pouted, just as she had every other day. It felt wrong to keep secrets.

"Because." Callie tried to come up with an excuse that sounded better than _I'm scared_. "It'll be a surprise."

Sofia crossed her arms. "Mommy doesn't like surprises."

"That's true," Callie conceded. Then, she told Sofia the truth—or part of it, anyway. "Sofia, I haven't figured out what to say to her, yet, okay? She's going to want to know why."

Sofia continued to stare at her mom. "I thought we were going home because she's all alone, and we love her, and you said love means never being alone."

"It does," Callie acknowledged. "And we are. But it's been a long time since Mommy and I have talked, and I need to figure out how to say that. So don't say anything. You promise?"

Sofia nodded. "Fiiiine."

Callie smiled, finished dialing the number, and put the phone down on the counter, on speakerphone. She wanted to hear Arizona's voice, too.

Arizona got on the line. "Callie?"

"It's me!" Sofia sang. "Hi, Mommy!"

"Oh, Sofia," Arizona breathed. "Hey, sweetie. What's going on?"

"Nothing! I just wanted to talk to you."

"Well, I'm glad." Callie heard the smile in Arizona's voice. "Where have you been? You haven't been calling as often."

"I know," Sofia lamented. "I've been helping Mama p-." She met Callie's wide eyes and caught herself before she gave anything away. "I've been helping Mama with stuff," she corrected.

"Well, that's good to hear. How, um. How is Mama?"

Callie's lips curled up into a smile. The fact that Arizona still asked about her—still thought about her—gave her hope that, maybe, her ex-wife still loved her, too.

And then guilt spread through her. Because she knew she was being a coward, and she knew she wasn't offering nearly as much love as she could.

 _Soon, though_ , she reminded herself. _Soon, I'll be there. And I'll say that I'm sorry, and that I love her_.

"Mama's good," Sofia assured her, watching her mom tenderly place fork after fork into a Ziploc bag—careful not to make any noise. "She's cleaning."

"Oh. That's good. And-"

Callie and Sofia heard a soft beeping sound in the background, then Arizona's disappointed sigh. "Sweetie, I've gotta go. Call me again soon, though, okay?"

"I will, Mommy! I'll see you soon!"

"Not soon enough," Arizona lamented. "I love you, Sof. And tell Mama…"

Callie held her breath, and she felt her heart speed up.

"Um. Nevermind," Arizona decided.

Callie's face fell.

"I love you, Sofia. Bye!"

Sofia handed Callie back her phone and noticed her troubled expression. "What's wrong, Mama?"

"Nothing, Sof." Callie offered her daughter a reassuring smile. It looked more like a grimace. "Are you going to be ready to leave tomorrow morning?"

"Yes!" Sofia cheered. "Do you think Mommy will like this surprise?"

"I don't know, Sof," she admitted. "I really hope so."

* * *

"Hey, Mom," Arizona smiled as soon as her mom picked up the phone the next morning. "How are you doing?"

"I'm doing all right, sweetheart," Barbara promised. "Just like the last time you called."

"Are you sure? Do you want to talk about it?"

"What's there to say?" Barbara countered. "In some ways, I wish I had followed right after your dad—that I'd just fallen asleep on the day of his funeral and never woke up."

"Mom…"

"I know it would've been hard on you, to lose both parents at once, but it would've been a lot easier for me," she continued with a smile. "Your father and I were married for more than fifty years. We were together for our entire adult lives. I don't know how to live without him."

"I know," Arizona empathized. She had only been with Callie for a few years and, still, sometimes she didn't know how to live without her. She couldn't even begin to understand how her mom felt.

"I'm fine, though," Barbara reiterated. "You and Callie can stop worrying about me."

"Me and-." Arizona paused. " _Callie_?"

"Sure. She calls every day to check in and see if I'm okay—even more often than you do. You tell Callie I'm a tough cookie. She doesn't believe that I'm doing fine."

"She…calls you?" Arizona was having trouble understanding.

"Yes, honey. I'm sure she's been calling you, too. That girl cares like crazy, doesn't she?"

Arizona shook her head as she refused to let her mom get sidetracked. "Mom, she hasn't called me. Not once." It hurt to admit it out loud.

Barbara's eyes widened. "She hasn't?"

"No." Arizona looked down. "I guess she only still cares about you. Not me."

"Oh, Arizona, don't be silly."

And even though Arizona couldn't see her, she knew her mom was rolling her eyes. "What?" she pouted. It had been months, and all the pain only kept getting worse and worse. "She probably hates me or something."

"You and I both know that isn't true. Every time she calls, she always asks about you."

"That's not enough," Arizona maintained.

"Maybe not," Barbara conceded. "But isn't it something?"

* * *

Callie decided she would move into the first apartment she could find that would allow her to lease on a month-by-month basis, rather than require her to sign a year-long contract. And it ended up being perfect because, although the apartment was smaller than the living space she was used to, it was only a few blocks from the hospital.

On Monday morning after dropping Sofia off at her new school, Callie headed to work. And, suddenly, the nervousness she had been holding at arm's length overwhelmed her. What was she _doing_?

Yes, she had come home. For Arizona. And for Sofia. And for herself, because she loved Arizona, just as she always had, and she wanted to _feel_ that love. She felt it, and she _wanted_ to feel it, the way she hadn't allowed herself to feel it for so long.

But she hadn't told Arizona that—she hadn't even told Arizona that she and Sofia were moving home—and, now, she worried that might have been a bad idea.

As parents, at the very least, she and Arizona were a team, and yet Callie knew she had made a huge decision without her parenting partner. Mere minutes from the hospital, she realized for the first time that this homecoming may not bode well with Arizona. Perhaps there were one too many surprises.

And they hadn't even talked about school. A long time ago, Arizona had been adamant about Sofia going to public elementary school in Seattle, so now, Callie had honored that wish, but maybe Arizona's wants had changed.

Callie just didn't know. Not anymore.

It was the Chief who spotted her first, as she made her way up toward the Ortho wing.

"Torres!" Bailey greeted her friend with a smile. "It's good to see you!"

A wide smile bloomed on Callie's lips. "Bailey!" She bent down, pulling the shorter woman in for a hug.

To her surprise, Bailey didn't pull away immediately. She patted Callie on the back. "We've missed you," she admitted.

"I missed this place, too."

Then, Bailey pulled away, fixing Callie with a hard look. "Do you have your head screwed on right, now?" she checked. "No more running after residents who want to move across the country?"

Callie shook her head. "No," she promised. "It's time for me to stop running."

Bailey raised an eyebrow, sensing the double-edge in her friend's words.

"Where's Arizona?" Callie wondered, and she thought she saw Bailey nod to herself in sudden understanding, but she wasn't sure if she had only imagined it.

"She was in the conference room a few minutes ago. She doesn't seem all that excited to see you."

"She-. _What_? You told her I was coming?"

"Not me!" Bailey defended herself. "Grey."

A few feet away, Meredith looked up from her beeper at the sound of her name. "What'd I do?" she asked Bailey. Then, she spotted Callie. "Callie!" she grinned, and she immediately walked over to greet her. "You're back."

And, as thrilled as Callie was to see her closest friend, she was occupied with more pressing thoughts. "You told Arizona I was coming back?"

"Oh. Yeah," Meredith admitted. She met Callie's panicked eyes and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Look, it's okay," she reassured her. "I just said that you had decided to move back home."

"Meredith!" Callie admonished.

"Sorry! When Bailey finally told me yesterday that you'd called and asked for your job back, I couldn't believe it." Meredith smiled at her friend. "I told everyone. I was excited."

But Callie barely heard her friend's defense over the sound of her own suddenly pounding heart. Because fifteen feet away, in the middle of the hallway, Arizona stood stock-still, staring at her.

Bailey and Meredith followed her eyes then froze.

Meredith turned to Bailey. "We should…go," she suggested disjointedly.

"Right," Bailey nodded. "I have…chiefly things to do."

They scurried away, leaving Callie to the wolves. Or, well, one wolf.

No. Not a wolf. They left Callie alone with the woman she loved, the woman she wanted, the woman she worried she had irreparably hurt with her silence. The woman who terrified her, but only because Callie wanted her so badly.

When Arizona's hardened expression still didn't change, Callie offered a tiny wave. "Hey."

Arizona gulped. Callie really _had_ come back. That felt so good that it hurt.

Seeing Callie felt _so_ good. And it hurt.

Callie took a calculated step forward. "It's, um, good to see you?" In her nervousness, her tone was almost questioning.

"You're back."

Callie nodded, offering at tentative smile. She had hoped that Arizona might be happier with the news. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but…" She paused. "I didn't really know what to say, and I wanted to talk to you in person."

Arizona nodded. It had been so long since she had blinked that Callie was sort of blurring at the edges. Callie's voice sounded warbled, as if she was hearing it from underwater.

She didn't know how she felt. _Am I happy?_ she wondered. _Sad? Angry? Pleased?_

"A few weeks ago, I asked for my job back," Callie explained, needing to fill the uneasy silence with words.

"I heard," Arizona quipped.

"I just called Bailey and-"

Finally, Arizona settled on anger. "So I guess you _can_ dial a telephone."

Callie's eyes bulged. She hadn't been expecting that, even if she deserved it. She looked down, and Arizona immediately felt guilty for her harsh tone. "Arizona…"

Still, anger won out. "No, it's fine," Arizona continued sardonically, her voice raising to a pitch that indicated it was _not_ fine, and _she_ was not fine in the slightest. "I was worried. I thought you might be paralyzed or something. I thought maybe you might have broken all your fingers."

She made a move to walk away, but then she hesitated and didn't actually take a step away from Callie. She didn't actually _want_ to walk away. Because, as angry and hurt as she was, she was also elated. Callie was the woman she loved, and Callie was _home_.

Callie pursed her lips together. All she wanted to do was walk into Arizona's space and pull the woman she loved into her arms, and it killed her that she couldn't do that anymore—maybe she never would.

"I should've called," she agreed, taking a few steps to the side so that she was back in Arizona's line of sight.

"But you didn't." It had been _months_ of silence.

Callie nodded softly. "I know. But-"

Arizona's pager went off in her pocket, and Callie exhaled a frustrated breath. _Damn_.

"I have to go," Arizona informed her without even looking up. She was scared to. She knew Callie was hurting—hurting over hurting _her_ —and she didn't want to feel bad about that. Not when she was still so hurt.

"Of course. Maybe tonight…"

But Arizona didn't stick around to hear her parting thought.

* * *

Hoping to at least begin to repair the situation as best she could, Callie sent Arizona an email with all the logistics—making sure to focus only on Sofia.

And she offered to have Sof stay with Arizona until they figured out a schedule again, deciding it was the least she could do after keeping their daughter in New York for so many months.

Arizona was grateful for that suggestion, and a few hours later, she and Sofia had a grand reunion when Arizona picked her up from school.

They had hugged for so long that her prosthetic leg had gotten sore, and as they walked toward the front door of the house, Sofia reached for her mother's hand.

"I'm glad to hear you made a new friend and like your teacher, Sof," Arizona smiled, continuing their conversation.

"Yeah!" Sofia agreed. "We learned about Dr. King today." Walking into the kitchen, still hand-in-hand, Sofia released Arizona to open her backpack. "Look! Ms. Castro says she gives us journal-time every day, and today she said to write him a letter."

Arizona's eyebrows raised. "You want me to read it?"

Sofia nodded excitedly.

Arizona smiled as she opened the little notebook and read Sofia's letter.

 _Dr. King_ , it read, _the world shoud be fair. No mater how people look. Long ago you saved the world. Now it is saved. To kids in my class are Native Americans. I Love What You Did. And I Olwase Will._

Arizona's dimples deepened the more she read. It was just so cute. "This is great, sweetie." She handed back Sofia's journal. "Martin Luther King Jr. was a pretty incredible man, huh?"

Sofia bobbed her head up and down. "Mommy, he was awesome! He saved the world!"

Arizona laughed. "He had a big impact," she agreed.

"Uh huh!" Then, Sofia looked around the kitchen, suddenly more focused, and more confused. "The kitchen's not yellow. It's still this ugly grey."

"Oh, yeah," Arizona sighed. She had planned to paint it, but yellow was such a cheerful color, and she…hadn't felt all that cheery. "Maybe we can paint it together."

"Mama can help, too!" Sofia suggested. "She's a good painter. She painted my bed in New York."

"Maybe," Arizona lied, though she couldn't help the flurry of domestic images that flashed across her mind at that thought. "Hey, Sof?"

"What?"

"Did Mama ever tell you why she decided for you two to come home?" She knew she should just ask Callie herself, but…

"Because you were all alone, Mommy," Sofia explained in a soft voice. "You said so, remember?"

Arizona inhaled a deep breath. "I remember."

"Mama said 'Love is never being alone, so we're going home,'" Sofia continued, in full reporting-mode now. "And she made me pinky swear not to tell you, even though it made me sad."

Arizona ignored the lurch in her stomach at the thought of Callie saying that—referring to her and love and home in the same thought—and leaned down to hug their little girl. "I love you, sweetie."

Sofia reached up and wrapped her arms around her mother's waist. "I love you, too, Mommy, and you never have to be alone again."

* * *

At 8:30pm that night, just before Arizona put Sof to bed, Sofia panicked. "Mommy, I forgot Mary! Mama has her!"

"Oh, Sofia…" Arizona sympathized. She knew her daughter couldn't sleep without her teddy bear—the one that had been bigger than her for the first two years of her life.

"I _need_ her," Sof insisted, and childish tears began streaming from her eyes.

"Sof, it's late," Arizona argued. "How about you sleep with one of these other stuffed animals, just for tonight?" She motioned toward the dozen toys that sat on the top of the bookshelf.

"Mommy, _please_?" Sofia looked up at her with big brown puppy-dog eyes.

Arizona released a shaky breath. "Okay," she surrendered. "I'll see if Lila from next door can come over for a few minutes to watch you while I pick it up at Mama's. But if she's busy, you have to try to go to sleep without your bear, okay?"

Sofia nodded, her expression already brightening.

Stubborn as she was, Arizona found her phone and dialed Callie's number.

"Arizona?" Callie picked up on the first ring, immediately hopeful that Arizona had called her to talk.

Arizona's breath caught at the sound of that soft, hopeful voice. "Hey."

Callie smiled. "Hey."

"I, um. Sofia...forgot Mary at your place," she finally verbalized. "I don't want you to have to drive over here, so I'll come pick her up. Do you mind if I stop by?"

"Oh. _Oh_. No. Of course not," Callie assured her.

"It'll just take a minute," Arizona swore. She would just drive over, grab the bear, and go. No talking. No staring at Callie with hearts in her eyes.

No yelling, either. Just grabbing the bear and going.

 _Right_.

"I'll text you the address right now."

"I'll be over there in half an hour." Arizona's stomach rolled at the thought of being with Callie—alone—and she worked to ignore the feeling.

"Drive carefully."

"I will. See you soon."

After she hung up, Arizona called Lila, the college student who lived next door and often babysat Sofia.

The girl headed over, and Arizona walked into Sofia's room. "Sof, I'm going to go get Mary from Mama. Lila's coming over and will read you a story, and then you should be brave and try to sleep, okay? By the time you wake up, you'll have Mary in your arms."

Sofia grinned and nodded in compliance, clearly happy to have gotten her way. "Thank you, Mommy."

Arizona smiled at her, then she leaned down to kiss her hair. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Mommy. And I'll _try_ to sleep," she promised. "You know what Dr. Bailey said to Mama the other day?"

"What?" Arizona wondered.

"She said 'love is being brave.'"

* * *

Callie's apartment was close to the hospital. But, to Arizona's surprise, it wasn't especially nice.

It was a small complex, probably with only six or eight separate apartments.

 _You could always invite her to stay at the house until she finds something better_ , her subconscious suggested.

Sofia had said that love meant being brave, and maybe that was true, but Arizona wasn't _that_ brave.

What if she _did_ ask if Callie wanted to stay with her and Callie said no? Or what if she asked and Callie said yes? She wasn't sure which prospect was scarier.

No, asking wasn't an option. She couldn't stand the idea of Callie moving in only to leave again.

So, instead, she used what little bravery she had to knock on the front door.

Callie, who had thrown on jeans and a t-shirt while Arizona had driven over, raced to open it.

She was met with Arizona, standing only two feet away from her, with her seablue eyes glowing in the light of the moon.

Callie gulped, and she thought she might have seen Arizona do the same. "Hey," she breathed. "Come on in."

She stepped aside to let Arizona slip past her and caught a whiff of her shampoo.

Arizona looked around the half set-up living room and the boxes that were strewn everywhere.

Callie made an attempt at small-talk. "I'm not done unpacking," she explained. "We only got back on Saturday. I still can't find half the plates."

But it didn't feel like small-talk. She knew that everything she said held a certain weight to it, and she could see that her ex-wife felt that, too.

As she watched Arizona, she could see the hot emotion sizzling just under the surface. She felt all that sadness and fury, and she understood it.

 _You should've called her_ , she reminded herself.

Arizona worked to keep her voice calm. "Did you find Mary?"

"Oh. Of course." Callie reached around herself to grab the bear. Slowly—almost cautiously—she walked toward her ex-wife to hand it to her.

As Arizona accepted the proffered bear, she offered a sad attempt at a smile. She wanted so badly to wrap her arms around Callie and cry the way she hadn't allowed herself to in months, but she didn't. She couldn't.

They stood facing each other in silence.

"Do you want to sit for a minute?" Callie suggested. "I could make some tea, and we could talk?"

Arizona shook her head. "No."

Callie tried again. "Arizona, about your dad-"

"It's too late, Callie," Arizona interrupted, a hard edge to her tone. "If you wanted to offer sympathies, you should have done that in December."

"Arizona…" Callie worried.

Arizona tried to soften her voice. "It's fine," she lied. The rational part of her really did _want_ it to be fine. "I'll be fine. We're not together, so I know it's not fair for me to expect you to care-"

Callie's eyebrows shot up. "You think I don't _care_?"

Arizona just shook her head—not in response to Callie's question. More in response to the hand she'd been dealt. To the world.

"Arizona…" she breathed. "You have to know how much I-"

Arizona turned away. "I should go. Sofia's waiting." She made her way toward the door and held up her hand. "See you around."

Callie felt her heart break as she watched Arizona walk away, and she refused to let her go without a fight. She forced herself to be brave. In a quiet voice, already half defeated, she spoke to her back. "I love you."

Arizona stopped in place—frozen stiff. She clenched her teeth together. " _Don't_."

Callie felt goosebumps line her skin. _Was that a bad idea?_

"Don't…say that," Arizona continued. She turned around, blinking back the tears in her eyes. "Don't you dare."

Callie gulped, and she ached to wrap her arms around Arizona, to protect her, to heal her, but she didn't move.

"I'm pretty sure that people who love each other—who care about each other—don't go months without calling."

Callie's eyes widened, and Arizona saw how guilty she felt. But it wasn't enough.

" _Especially_ when I needed you most," Arizona continued, then turned to walk away again. She couldn't bear to stay. It was too hard. It hurt too much. Love hurt too much.

But Callie refused to let her go without a fight. Not again. In a sharp voice, again she spoke to Arizona's retreating form. "You think I didn't call because I didn't _care_?"

"Then _why_?!" Arizona demanded, whipping back around to face her ex-wife as angry tears fell from her eyes. "What happened to you? You _knew_ , Callie, and you didn't even call."

"I didn't know what to say to you!" Callie defended.

"Right," Arizona scoffed. That was a poor excuse.

"What could I say?" Callie demanded. "I messed up. By the time I was ready to call, it was too late."

"You _did_ mess up," Arizona agreed. "You should have been there f-"

"Exactly!" Callie fought. "I should have _been there_ , Arizona! I should have been with you when it happened. I should have been your wife. I should have been there at the funeral, holding you."

Arizona tilted back her head, trying to force the falling tears back into her eyes. She had thought the very same thing. She would have done _anything_ for Callie to have been at the funeral. That was the only thing that she had felt would have made her feel better.

"I didn't even know!" Callie continued, and Arizona heard the pain in her voice. "You didn't even tell me! _Sofia_ had to tell me."

"You still could've called afterwards! It's been _months_ ," Arizona argued, though her fight was slipping. "I was all alone! I was…falling apart."

"I thought about you _every second_ ," Callie countered fiercely.

Arizona crossed her arms. "Clearly not enough to bother calling."

"What about _you_ , then?" Callie fought back because, as guilty as she felt, she refused to accept _all_ the blame.

Arizona looked at her questioningly.

" _Well_?" Callie sassed. " _You_ could've called _me_. If you wanted someone to talk to-"

"I couldn't call you about this!" Arizona cried.

"Why not?" Callie argued. "I'm not saying that I didn't mess up, too, but you could have-"

"Callie, you _left_ me," Arizona spat. "And I know that I told you to go, but you listened. And I wasn't desperate enough to call you and beg you to come back to me, no matter how much I wanted to."

"You could have," Callie argued weakly.

"No, I couldn't!" Arizona insisted. "We're not married anymore. But _you_ could have reached out. You could have at least been my friend."

"Please," Callie scoffed. "I could never be your friend."

Arizona's eyebrows furrowed. That stung. "What do you mean?"

"Come on." Callie fixed her with a look. "You know what we do to each other."

Arizona flushed. She _did_ know. They drove each other crazy—sometimes emotionally, always physically, and, historically, in a good way.

"If I could be _only_ your friend," Callie continued, "everything would be so easy between us. I would have called you every day."

Arizona pursed her lips together, though she acknowledged that Callie had a point. They had never been able to be only friends. They were destined to always be more to each other.

"It's my fault that you were hurting so badly," Callie insisted. "If we had been together when he died—if we had been married, and a team, the way we're supposed to be—everything would have been different."

"I know." Arizona looked down at the bear in her hands. "It isn't your fault, but you're right. It's exhausting to always have to be brave."

"You don't have to be," Callie reminded her in a soft voice. "Not always. Not with me."

Arizona looked up, meeting the brown eyes that looked at her with an intensity that terrified her. Callie _saw_ her—all of her. She always had.

"And I know I should have come sooner, but I'm here now," Callie continued. "I'll beg for your forgiveness, if that's what you need."

Arizona shook her head. She didn't need that. Not anymore.

"And…"

"And what?" Arizona inhaled an unsteady breath, and she felt her anger dissolve into something else, something less destructive. Because Callie _was_ there. And Callie had come home for her. That meant more than a few sympathetic phone calls, although those would have been nice, too.

"And you're not alone," Callie promised. "I love you, and that means when you're hurting, I'm hurting, too."

Arizona nodded. That she understood. She had always borne Callie's pain as if it were her own. It was one of the downfalls of love: that feeling of defensiveness—not being able to take someone's pain away, only being able to feel it with her. She knew the feeling well.

"I'm with you," Callie murmured. "If you hurt, I hurt with you."

Arizona's breath caught in her throat at the promise of love in Callie's words. Then she admitted, "For the first time in a long while, I don't hurt."

" _Yeah_." The corners of Callie's lips curled up into a hint of a smile. "Me, neither."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think so far!**


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